


Slowly, Slowly

by perdiccas



Series: Dutch Courage [2]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: First Time, M/M, Porn, Road Trip, Romance, Safer Sex, Zane!Sylar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-14
Updated: 2008-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdiccas/pseuds/perdiccas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after that first kiss?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slowly, Slowly

It was Mohinder who initiated their second kiss, holding Zane’s face in his hands and guiding them slowly back towards the bed. It was Mohinder who lay back first, gently tugging Zane down with him, sighing as their bodies pressed together and their legs twisted and entangled. He brushed his thumb along Zane’s lower lip, and it was Mohinder who cried out as Zane sucked the tip between his teeth and laved it wetly with his tongue.

   


They lay in each other’s arms, kissing soft and lazily, their hands exploring with light, tentative touches. It seemed unreal to think that an hour ago Mohinder had thought his attraction unrequited. All through the day the ever present sense of loneliness that hung at the back of his mind wherever he travelled in this country had been amplified by Zane’s presence. Their easy conversation and instant connection seemed to only emphasise what Mohinder had lost by leaving India and shine a spotlight on everything that was usually absent in his life and yet, now, with one look, one kiss and one simple confession of desire that aching black feeling was wholly pushed aside.

  
  


Mohinder wanted to savour this moment; the simple acts of kissing, touching and being. He couldn’t recall the last time he had done this: been with someone in such a slow and gentle manner, not hurried because they both had deadlines and commitments, not frantic and desperate because they needed nothing but the physical release, merely exploring, sharing this intimacy. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed this.

  
  


Every few kisses, Zane drew back to gaze at his face and study his expression. He seemed a little nervous, and wanting to please. Above all else he had a constant look of wonderment on his face that made Mohinder think he truly had been wanting this all day and, like Mohinder, had never thought it would come to pass. Mohinder encouraged him with whispered moans and gentle words of affection, shuddering in pleasure as Zane began stroke down his arms and up his sides.

  
  


He settled his hands at Zane’s hips, dipping his fingers under the hem of his dark t-shirt, humming into Zane’s kiss as he could feel every clench of the muscle below his skin. Just as they settled into a tender rhythm of tongues and lips, Zane’s hands worked between them, pushing Mohinder’s shirt above his navel and caressing his taut flesh.

  
  


Their kisses grew hungrier and Zane let his fingers dart lower, fumbling for the clasp of Mohinder’s jeans and rubbing him firmly between his legs. He bucked up into the sudden and unexpected touch, his cock getting harder in the tight confines of his jeans. It was too much and too fast. Mohinder didn’t want this to be hurried or urgent; forgettable in its similarity to every other sexual encounter he had recently indulged in. He grabbed Zane’s hands before they succeeded in undoing his fly and held them still between their bodies.

  
  


‘Wait, Zane.’

  
  


They were both breathing heavily and Mohinder could see and feel Zane’s trousers tenting. He let out a groan as Mohinder shifted beneath him, his thigh rubbing lightly against Zane’s erection as he tried to catch his breath and relieve the throbbing tension between his legs.

  
  


‘Sorry,’ Mohinder muttered. Zane simply shook his head and bit his lip, waiting for Mohinder to make the next move. ‘It’s just…’ He hesitated. _I want this to be special_, seemed to be asking too much of a man he known for less than a day, _I want to feel needed and loved_. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve done this with another man.’

  
  


‘It’s been a while since I’ve done this with anyone,’ Zane confessed, dropping his gaze to the side. ‘Do… do you want to stop?’

  
  


‘No.’ Mohinder pressed their lips together once more, his tongue flicking at Zane’s and skimming the roof of his mouth. ‘Let’s just go slow, ok?’

  
  


Zane mumbled a _yes_ into his lips and tried to press Mohinder down against the pillows, but he pushed back against Zane’s shoulders until, groaning, he broke the kiss. Zane sat up on his knees, his chest heaving as his hands slipped out from under Mohinder’s shirt to fist in the sheets on either side of his hips. Mohinder began to unbutton his own shirt. Zane’s eyes followed his hands as they moved unhurriedly down his front, exposing his thin white undershirt. He leaned forward and pecked Zane on the cheek as he stripped out of both shirts. Mohinder gave him one last kiss and then settled back against the sheets to let Zane look at his body.

  
  


And look he did. His eyes were darting everywhere and Mohinder was sure he was holding his breath. His pupils were dark, reflecting the dim light of the room and Mohinder’s equal desire. Zane exhaled in one long, breathy chuckle as he finally met Mohinder’s eyes. ‘Wow.’

  
  


‘Like what you see?’ he teased, reaching up to stroke Zane’s jaw with the back of his hand. Mohinder felt his cock throb harder against his fly as the other man licked his lips in anticipation.

  
  


Zane simply nodded, still unable to focus, his gaze skipping from Mohinder’s shoulders, to his chest to his abdomen. Without warning he dropped his head down and pressed a soft, tender kiss low on Mohinder’s stomach, just above the buckle of his belt. Mohinder arched up into the unexpected touch. Zane’s lips were warm and wet, and when he pulled back he sucked ever so slightly on Mohinder’s flesh, making him whimper. Mohinder ran his fingers through Zane’s hair, trying not to squirm as he kissed his way along his stomach, following the line of Mohinder’s belt until he reached his hip. Every kiss was the same gentle brush of lips that seemed to worship Mohinder’s skin and left him wanting to pant and beg for more.

  
  


He nibbled and lapped at his hip, working his way up over Mohinder’s ribs and moaning his approval when Mohinder unconsciously began to grind up into him. Mohinder was clutching desperately now at his hair. He let out a deep moan of frustration as Zane mouthed over the muscles of his chest, sucking at his collarbone on a path that bypassed his tight and aching nipples.

  
  


‘Please,’ he begged. He pushed lightly at Zane’s neck, desperately wanting to guide him down to press his tongue against those hard nubs, but not wanting to force or rush him.

  
  


‘Like this?’ he whispered, flicking Mohinder’s nipple with the tip of his tongue. He bucked up against Zane, swearing through gritted teeth as pleasure seemed to radiate out from his chest, jolting through his body and humming around the root of his cock. He fisted his hand in Zane’s hair and held him tightly to his body, riding out the rush of arousal while Zane willing sucked and tugged, his hand coming up to caress his neglected nipple.

  
  


‘Oh shit, Zane.’ He pressed his head back against the pillows, his chin lifting to leave his neck exposed. Then, Zane was there, kissing his way up to recapture Mohinder’s lips. They kissed more urgently now, gently rocking together. Boldly, Mohinder cupped Zane’s ass, smiling as the other man broke away from his mouth to groan, his eyes squeezed shut at the exquisite sensation. He brought his hands up slowly, lifting Zane’s shirt as he groped his back, marvelling at the muscles shifting beneath his palms.

  
  


Zane leaned back to pull the t-shirt over his head and it was Mohinder’s turn to stare, open mouthed and breathless. He looked glorious in the dull light of the room. His skin was so pale, looking paler still with Mohinder’s hand pressed to his chest. He was long and lean, with just a hint of definition to the muscles of his chest and stomach. Where Zane had explored him with his eyes, Mohinder let his hands wander, taking in all the angles and planes of his body. He teased Zane’s nipples making him smile but finding the other man less sensitive there than himself. Mohinder ran his fingers through his chest hair and toyed with the hair low on his belly.

  
  


He pulled Zane down for a kiss and let their chests bump together, gasping into Zane’s mouth at the feel of Zane’s warm flesh against his own and the scratch of his chest hair against his own smoother skin. They were grinding together lightly, thighs and hips rubbing insistently through the layers of their clothes. With one final kiss, Zane wriggled downwards, smiling as Mohinder ruffled his hair and moaned in anticipation of what was to come. Zane’s fingers were nimble as they undid his belt, precise and almost clinical as they unzipped his fly and efficient as they stripped him of his remaining clothes. He barely brushed against Mohinder’s erection as he worked.

  
  


‘Wow,’ Zane said again, with the same genuine awe in his voice, as he tilted his head and gazed at Mohinder’s throbbing cock.

  
  


Mohinder propped himself up on his elbows, watching Zane as he ducked his head. He brushed his lips, oh so faintly, over Mohinder’s balls, his tongue lapping at Mohinder’s sac in short, gentle swipes. He shifted higher, nipping at Mohinder’s inner thigh and sucking at the crease of his groin until Mohinder wriggled, ticklish under the attention. He rubbed his face against his crotch, nuzzling in his pubic hair and inhaling deeply. ‘God, you smell good,’ he sighed, almost inaudibly when Mohinder petted his hair.

  
  


‘_Zane_.’ The name came in a guttural moan, hoarse and broken as Zane dropped a kiss to the side of his cock, right at his base. Slowly, teasingly he mouthed up the side, kissing and sucking tenderly at Mohinder’s rigid shaft. Mohinder’s head fell back against the headboard. He ignored the dull crack as he smacked into the wood and he dug his fingernails into his palms as ruthlessly as he could. Cricket scores, times tables, the important dates in Indian history – he tried to remember them all, facts dull and dusty enough to temper the swelling tide of lust that rose and burnt in his every vein.

  
  


When Zane reached his tip, he paused, mouth hovering just millimetres away. He could feel Zane’s breath when he moaned Mohinder’s name and when he licked his lips, he was granted just a moment’s contact with that sweet, soft tongue. Mohinder’s knees lifted on either side of Zane’s body, clinging to his ribs and holding him close while his toes curled and his cock twitched. The stillness dragged on longer and longer until Mohinder was on the verge of screaming with desire denied. He opened his eyes to find Zane staring directly at him. His breath caught and holding his gaze, Zane opened his mouth wide and lowered his head.

  
  


Throwing his arms over his head, Mohinder clung to the headboard with both hands. His head thrashed to the side and for a moment he was glad for the yellowing, stained pillowcases. They gave him something to focus on besides Zane’s body, Zane’s lips, and the thought of Zane filling him up and working him open. But the suction, the heat, the pure wetness of what he was expecting never came. Zane simply bypassed the head of his erection to mouth down the other side with the same achingly slow pace and deliciously thorough rhythm.

  
  


He licked at the base of Mohinder’s cock, wrapping his tongue around as much he could before snaking it back to leave a wet, sloppy trail encircling his hardness. He blew softly on the damp skin and Mohinder shivered at the chill and the warring sensations of hot and cold within him. He could feel a pearl of pre-come escaping from his slit as biting his lip, he both regretted and rejoiced in his request to take things slowly.

  
  


Lips were going lower and lower until Zane was pressing his mouth to Mohinder’s sac once more. The kisses were firmer this time, more inquisitive. He was groaning at Mohinder’s taste, vibrations rumbling through Mohinder’s skin and thrumming over his nerves until he was lifting his hips whenever Zane pulled back to breathe. There was the sound of fabric shifting and then Zane was lifting his balls in his palm, absently fondling them as he licked and sucked at Mohinder’s perineum.

  
  


He was spread, now, flat on his stomach between Mohinder’s legs. From the head of the bed, Mohinder could see his hips rock and undulate against the mattress as Zane rubbed himself into the sheets. He wanted to reach out, the caress Zane’s neck and shoulders, to skim his palms as low on his back as he could or even to pull Zane up and rid him of his trousers so that Mohinder could feel his body, flesh to flesh. But then Zane was tilting his hips, cupping his ass and kneading his muscles until his legs spread further and Mohinder knew that if he didn’t hang on and clutch at the headboard with all his might, he wouldn’t last long enough to repay Zane the favour.

  
  


The noises Zane made were criminal. Slurps, grunts, and moans; gasps and sighs and breathy whimpers; aggressive growls and desperate, needy whines, all hanging in the air and verging on pornographic. Mohinder had never considered himself particularly vocal in bed, beyond a cry of _yes_ or a plea for _more_, but now his voice was mingling with Zane’s, loud and uninhibited. He was swearing as his head thrashed from side to side, he was keening as he gripped Zane tighter between his knees and his balls drew up, and when Zane nibbled at the puckered flesh of his opening, his body curled forward and he let out a shout that was sure to be heard throughout the motel.

  
  


Over and over Zane lapped at his hole, breathing heavily through his nose so that the hot stream of air tickled his skin. It had been years since anyone had touched Mohinder _there_ and Zane was phenomenal: his tongue so talented and his fingers gentle. Just when Mohinder thought he could take no more and that he would have to yell _stop_, Zane plunged his tongue inside, once, deep, and with a punishing twist, before he fell back panting.

  
  


Mohinder was completely undone. His hair was soaked through with sweat, sticking to the back of his neck and clinging to his temples, his limbs were trembling and his stomach clenching with need. He was practically levitating off the bed in a desperate attempt to keep Zane close and to reach his exquisite breaking point. Zane was rubbing his inner thighs and whispering soothing nonsense noises, muttering, ‘shhh, you’re ok. It’s ok.’

  
  


It took a moment for Mohinder to realise that he was whining and begging, pleading for Zane with his every exhalation. Zane grinned down on him smugly, inordinately pleased with the shambling mess he had reduced Mohinder to. He licked his lips and sloppily wiped his face with the back of his hand. The very idea of where Zane’s mouth had been and the knowledge of just how filthily _good_ it had been made him reach down and try to pull Zane up so that he could smell his own musk on his lips.

  
  


But Zane wasn’t done yet. He resisted gently at first but when Mohinder’s grasp became more desperate he held Mohinder by the wrists and pinned his arms to the bed. He kissed again at the base of Mohinder’s dick, this time at the very centre of the underside. He stilled for a second, and closed his eyes and as Mohinder watched it seemed as if Zane were taking his pulse with his lips, immersing himself in the heady, rhythmic throb of his sensitive vein. His lips were damp with spit and just chapped enough to catch on Mohinder’s rigid length as he dragged them slowly upwards, following the route of his blood as it pulsed to the tip.

  
  


His tongue flicked against Mohinder’s skin as he moved. Nearly at the tip, so close to enveloping the head between his too nimble lips, he found that spot that made Mohinder cry out. So he licked it again. And again. And again. His tongue curled and his lips sucked. He tilted his head to the side and grazed it gently, carefully, torturously with his bottom teeth. It was intense and unrelenting. Mohinder knew he was dripping, pre-come dribbling down as he pulled on all his bodily control to stop himself from coming under Zane’s assault.

  
  


Finally, Zane relented. The sigh Mohinder gave was a confusing mix of relief and abject disappointment. Zane merely chuckled and with a quick swipe of his tongue, laved the pooled wetness from his tip. He kissed it and suckled gently, letting his lips slip down just enough to enclose the head and as soon as Mohinder tried to thrust in further, he pulled back.

  
  


Releasing Mohinder’s arms, Zane mouthed his way up Mohinder’s prone body. There was nothing teasing or meandering about his route this time. It was a path of sharp bites and insistent lips, hitting on the way all the spots that he had found to make Mohinder beg – the edge of his hip, the centre of his sternum, both nipples and his clavicle. Mohinder arched up to capture his lips, but Zane pulled back and sheepishly tried to wipe his lips again.

  
  


‘Oh, Zane,’ Mohinder moaned, overcome that even in the heat of passion he could be so selfless and considerate. He gently pushed Zane’s hand away and held his face in both hands, plunging his tongue deep into his mouth to flood his senses with his own bitter taste. He licked at Zane’s lips, his chin and his cheeks, humming at the scratch of his stubble along his tongue as he cleaned the other man.

  
  


When he saw Zane’s eyes slide shut, Mohinder stroked down his neck and sides, and reaching between them, unbuttoned his trousers. Zane was frowning in concentration, his arms trembling to hold himself up as Mohinder wantonly groped him while he worked his fly open. He cupped him through his trousers, marvelling at the heat against his palm even through the layers of fabric. He delved his hand inside and he smiled to find Zane’s underwear damp with sweat and sticky with pre-come. Mohinder gripped him through the thin cotton and watched as Zane’s brow grew more furrowed and he bit his lip harder, the skin made as white as the snow that fell outside their window.

  
  


Mohinder peeled back Zane’s clothes, pushing them down just far enough so that his cock stood free. He took the chance to fondle his ass, squeezing each cheek and kneading his flesh. Then his hands trailed back to his front and with one hand he weighed his balls in his palm – already so tight and close to his body – and the other slipped around his erection. The touch seemed to startle Zane out his trance. His breath came out in one heady rush and he tilted up Mohinder’s chin to kiss him deeply, biting at his mouth and grunting into his lips.

  
  


Mohinder pumped him with a firm hand, trying to work his strokes in time to the ragged thrusts of Zane’s hips as he ground down into the touch. Then, Zane was sliding his hand between their bodies and with just his thumb and his forefinger he rubbed circles into the head of Mohinder’s cock. They were both panting now, no longer kissing as they were too overcome with their own arousal and concentrating too hard on making this last. It was Mohinder who broke first. His hand dropped away from Zane’s dick and he batted away Zane’s fingers.

  
  


‘Please, Zane.’

  
  


‘Oh, Mohinder,’ he moaned. He tried to reach between them again, to fondle Mohinder once more.

  
  


‘No, Zane. Please. I don’t want to come like this.’

  
  


Zane opened his eyes, staring deep into Mohinder’s. ‘Tell me what you want,’ he breathed. ‘Tell me so I can make you come.’

  
  


Mohinder arched up. He couldn’t help it. Zane’s husky voice and the pure ache in his words were almost better than a fist, a mouth or an ass around his cock. Their erections glanced against one another. Swearing, Zane bit his shoulder hard enough to leave a nasty welt in the morning but Mohinder didn’t care. ‘Inside me,’ he begged. ‘I need you inside me.’

  
  


Zane clambered off him, shucking the clothes that still clung to his legs and fishing a condom and some sachets of lube from the back pocket. Mohinder didn’t have time to be offended at the presumption behind it or to wonder if Zane had knocked on the door with the hopes of getting him drunk enough to do this. All that mattered right then was that they didn’t have to stop, that they didn’t have to fumble in bags and find they had nothing. The foil packet was pressed into his palm as Zane sat on the bed, leaning back on his arms with his legs splayed. ‘Put it on me.’

  
  


Mohinder dropped one kiss to Zane’s tip, licking the pre-come from his lips and groaning at the taste as Zane’s hand snapped up to run through his hair. He had to fight himself not to swallow Zane down like he wanted to, to hell with taking things slowly. He wanted to feel him nudging at the back of his throat and have him come, pulsing and hot in his mouth. It was with trembling hands that he opened the silver wrapper, wanting to hurry but scared of ripping what was sure to be their only condom in his haste. He groped Zane as much as he thought the other man could bear before rolling it on and slicking him up.

  
  


He flipped onto his knees and with his still wet fingers he rubbed at his opening, mingling the lube with Zane’s spit still gracing his skin. He braced himself against the headboard, breathing deeply as his body remembered how to relax into the invasion. It had been so long, too long he thought, since he had indulged in this. He thrust just one finger inside, working it deeper and stretching himself. Mohinder was so engrossed in what he was doing that he had almost forgotten that he was performing for another. But then Zane was cupping his cock, hanging hard and heavy between his thighs and his slick fingers were joining Mohinder’s as he caressed Mohinder’s pucker.

  
  


Mohinder let his own hand fall away, needing it to support himself as Zane took over. He was opened slowly and thoroughly until he was wailing for Zane to take him, pressing back against his fingers and tempted to reach down and touch himself to relieve the pressure building inside. One last twist and stroke of his prostate and Zane let his fingers fall free. Mohinder spread his knees wider and pressed his head to the wood before him, biting his lip in anticipation of that spine tingling initial burn and stretch.

  
  


It didn’t come. Zane held him tenderly by the hips and turned him over, finding his lips with his own and swallowing down Mohinder’s yelp of surprise. He angled Mohinder’s ass and pulled his thighs up until Mohinder wrapped them around his waist. Then, with one hand cradling Mohinder’s cheek and holding his in a kiss, he pushed inside. Mohinder tensed and Zane paused immediately, waiting for Mohinder’s muscles to unclench before pulling back a little and pressing in again. They repeated the same stop-start rhythm until Zane was fully inside, mumbling incoherently about heat and tightness and Mohinder was fully relaxed beneath him, rocking up against his pelvic bone. Zane’s back was damp with sweat as Mohinder stroked up and down his spine, rubbing at his shoulders before skimming back down to grip his hips. ‘Roll over,’ Mohinder whispered.

  
  


Still as deep inside as he could be, Zane flipped onto his back, holding Mohinder steady with an iron grip on his hips. ‘Whatever you want,’ he murmured, his eyes squeezed shut against his arousal. ‘You can have whatever you want.’

  
  


Mohinder settled himself on his knees, twisting his hips to find the right angle and the perfect balance. He leaned down to press his lips to Zane’s as he started to slowly rise up and fall back down, sliding up and down Zane’s cock with an easy, steady beat. He was skimming his hands over Zane’s shoulders, thumbs tracing his clavicles and caressing his chest. Zane was stroking his thighs and massaging his stomach, rolling his hips at the same gentle pace Mohinder had set.

  
  


They made love just as they had first kissed – tentative, exploratory and to sate an overwhelmingly need for each other. Their bodies moved together in perfect time, and Mohinder wondered how something so beautiful could happen in such a dank and dingy place as this. Zane sped up, lifting his hips off the bed to push up into Mohinder deeper and harder. Mohinder obliged, arching back, clenching his muscles as he pulled up and relaxing completely as he slammed back down again. Zane’s face was a mask of ecstasy. His mouth was wide, his eyes barely open and completely dazed. He brushed his palm through the sweat on Mohinder’s chest, tweaking a nipple along the way, before taking Mohinder in hand.

  
  


He jerked him off in time to his thrusts, pulling his head down so that they could kiss. Zane’s hand and Mohinder’s cock were pressed between their bodies as Mohinder lay flat, chest to chest, slowing their rhythm to a sleepy-slow rock of the hips as they kissed. It was exquisite torture to pause when they were both so close but Mohinder wanted this moment to last. He wanted to memorise every detail of Zane’s face, to store away the feel of his skin and the taste of his lips. He wanted to record the sound of his breath and the way he moaned Mohinder’s name, low, desperate and completely raw. Mohinder wanted to have this moment in all its purity to keep forever so that whatever came next, whatever problems they faced on this journey or whomever they might meet, he could recall that here and now, Zane wanted him, accepted him, and needed him. Zane believed in him.

  
  


‘Fuck me,’ Mohinder whispered.

  
  


They rolled over again and now there was nothing restrained or gentle in their movements. The slap of skin on skin was loud in the room, the bed was rattling and Mohinder was yelling Zane’s name as he slammed in, hard and true, with every thrust. He arched up, met Zane push for push, sliding his cock roughly through Zane’s fist. It was frantic and frenetic as if something had snapped inside them both and they could no longer hold back. When they came, they were so involved in their own pleasure that neither could tell who climaxed first. It seemed to be one long moment of tensing muscles, pulsing cocks and held breath. It stretched on and on as time seemed to still, their bodies caught in the wracking aftershocks of their orgasms. Then with a deep sigh it shattered and Mohinder fell back against the sheets, sticky, sweaty and shivering from the exertion.

  
  


Zane slipped out of him, tossing the condom in the bin and half heartedly trying to clean them up. Mohinder just pulled him down, content to collapse in their own mess as long as Zane was pressed beside him. They exchanged breathless kisses, petting one another’s trembling bodies. Finally, Zane cupped his cheek and whispered in his ear. ‘I’m so glad you found me.’[](http://www.statcounter.com/)

  



End file.
